Dark Places
by IdeasLurkingWithinTheDarkness
Summary: It has been two years since Aizen's defeat and Ichigo is still struggling with the loss of his powers. However, recently Kurosaki has been suffering from unexplained nightmares involving Aizen subjecting him to indescribable torture; thus, leading him to wonder if this is a dream or part of Aizen's evil scheme to escape from the prisons of soul society. Rating is subject to change.


**Disclaimer: I do not own any right to BLEACH or any characters relating to the series. This is purely fiction and is written strictly for fun. However, if I did own it, then none of my favorite characters would be dead!**

 **Warning: This story is un-betad! If you want to complain about it, then please find me a beta whom will work with my hectic schedule and eccentric personality!**

A loud shriek reverberated through the hollow room, as the edge of the knife pierced through the tender layers of flesh and severed the bounded muscles from the tissues that held them in place.

Every part of his body screamed and exerted from the pain that continued to run through his shaking form, as blood unceasingly exuded and flourished from the open wounds upon the victim's delicate figure.

His back throbbed from the larruping he received as punishment for trying to escape his captor's malevolent grasp, and his lungs burned from the water that remained from his preceding punishment.

Sweat decanted down his glacial cheeks and over his bare chest where it washed away the crimson liquid that had sat upon his flesh for several days; additionally, causing inflammation to the unsecured layers of skin.

He felt the man's fingers grip a fist full of his orange locks and proceeded in pulling his head backward until his neck strained from the motion.

Something warm and slick rested tenderly against his throat, causing his screams to leisurely abate.

The man then gently shushed him, as he ran the tip of his blade unwaveringly across his Adam's apple, and watched fervently as the boy bit hard into his lower lip to end the pained cries that so heedlessly escaped them.

"That's it…" He cooed, whilst bringing the knife to a halt just above the carotid artery. "What do you say, my child? Should we try something new?"

Slowly Aizen observed as his victim's mouth opened and closed several times before a silent moan escaped his slightly parted lips.

"I see..." He said with a languid sigh, as he slowly placed the blade down onto a metallic tray that was sodden with blood and various bodily fluids; so that he could retrieve, a syringe filled with a clear liquid that he gently administered into his forearm. "Let's see how long you can withstand this."

Slowly Ichigo raised his head to stare up into the man's brown eyes that stared solemnly into his austere ones. They remained in this position for several minutes before an odd sensation swept over his immobile form, followed by a slow trail of blood that exuded from his nose and down over his sinuous lips.

Then, without warning a cacophonous shriek filled the room, subsequently causing the teenagers head to collide into the back of the metal chair as blood began to flow from his eyes, and was followed by the sound of gargling as crimson liquid spewed from his mouth in coagulated globs.

"That's it." Aizen cooed, whilst then resting a hand upon his forehead, and gradually stroked his hand through his matted strands of hair. "It's alright now; do not try to fight it, Ichigo."

Tears streamed down his battered cheeks, washing away the dried patches of blood and dragging it down his face, where it dripped rhythmically from the edge of his chin, soaking into the fabric of his black pants.

A loud shriek resonated through the room; sending elated chills through Aizen as he watched the boy clamp his teeth together, only to have blood unceasingly ooze through the gaps and dribble into his lap.

Slowly Aizen wrapped his delicate fingers around the top of the Kurosaki's forehead and dilatorily pulled him back until his head rested against the metal chair.

Ichigo could feel the man's malice lips brush gently over his ear until he could acknowledge his unsolicited breath dancing across his exposed skin.

"Have we had enough yet?" Aizen queried with a warm smile forming upon his malevolent lips, as he felt the boy's body shake beneath his grasp. "Come now, do not be so adamant child. After all, the mind can only withstand so much turmoil before it automatically begins to shut down."

"Stop!" Ichigo screeched, causing blood to spew from his mouth and spray across the white floors. "Please…" He sobbed as bloodied saliva dripped down his chin and amalgamated with the blood upon his black pants.

A gentle sigh slipped past the man's lips, as he slowly walked around the child so that he was now standing before him, and looking down upon his pitiful form.

"Oh, Ichigo." He began with a spiteful, yet benevolent tone. "How pathetic. I was hoping for a little more forbearance from someone such as yourself."

Ichigo could taste vile that had leisurely exuded through his slightly parted lips, as he raised his head to stare up into Aizen's inhospitable gaze. All whilst warm and bloody tears began to stream down either side of his ashen cheeks, leaving behind red streaks upon his bruised skin.

An angered cry soon escaped through his tightly gritted teeth, additionally causing the blood and saliva in his mouth to foam from the intense reverberation coursing from his vocals.

Pain tore through his feeble form, as every muscle and tendon screamed in dismay due to the insufferable agony, which continued to leisurely course through him in astringent waves.

Nevertheless, Ichigo could only hope that the perplexing liquid would end this unsolicited hell, and pull him back into the cold and undesired hands of death that had been waiting upon his arrival since the day that he had come face-to-face with this man.

However, there was only one thing keeping him within Aizen's malevolent grasp, just one thing that prevented him from escaping.

Suddenly there was a distant, yet familiar voice calling out his name and beckoning him back to reality.

"Ichigo! Ichigo! Wake up! Ichigo!"

Aizen leisurely brushed the back of his hand over the boys quaking cheek, watching in glee as Ichigo's lips began to quiver whilst tear unceasingly spilled down his face.

Slowly the callous man leaned down and planted a gentle kiss upon his forehead, pleasuring the feeling of his trembling skin beneath his lips before he pulled away and stared deeply into his appalled gaze.

"Do not worry, my child; I will be waiting for you to return to me," Aizen stated, and without warning, he pierced his hand through the center of Ichigo's chest and watched as he threw his head back against the headrest and expelled a choked gasp. "Do not keep me waiting."

Ichigo could feel the profound inhalation fill his lungs with oxygen as he flew up from his bed, where he found his fingers entangled in the black fabric of his long-sleeved shirt, and continued to gulp at the air that leisurely absorbed into his deprived organs.

He felt a hand rest on his tremulous shoulders drawing his attention to his father, in who sat only inches away from him with a worried look plastered upon his gentle features.

Isshin slowly removed his hand from his son's shoulder once he sensed his muscles growing tense, and his breaths quickening from the unwanted contact.

The night terrors had been going on for several weeks now without any sign of forbearance for the young teenager, and every night was the same thing. First came the unfathomable mumbling, that manifested into screams of dismay, and the lament like pleads that would eventually transpire into silent whimpers until his father would awaken him from the unforeseen hell.

"Hey, are you alright?" Isshin asked, as he leisurely took in his son's pallid and frail complexion.

Ichigo nodded slowly, as he clutched the ends of his sleeves in his trembling fingers and brought his palms to his eyes so that he could wipe the tears from his face with the cotton material.

"Can you tell me what happened?" Isshin queried, as he observed his son's every move.

His father watched as Ichigo brought his knees up to his chest, and rested his head against the fabric that covered his knee-caps; whilst every part of his body continued to shake with apprehension from the previous horrors in which he had encountered only moments ago.

"I'm fine, you can go." Ichigo stuttered, as he wrapped his arms tightly around his legs.

Thus, his father knew that he was anything but 'fine'. The nightmares had been materializing for several weeks now, and Ichigo still refused to talk to him about it.

However, it was evident that the aftermath of the battle with Aizen and the loss of his power was beginning to take their toll on the young man, for he had lost a drastic amount of weight causing his bones to appear as though they were protruding from the skin that once obscured most of the skeleton's existence, and there were dark circles under his bloodshot eyes.

Slowly he reached a hand forward and replaced it on his shoulder, only to have him shrink back into his pillows, where he started to chant incoherent words that additionally caused his father to remove his hand.

"Hey," His father began, before hearing the sound of Yuzu's timorous steps making their way through the doorway, and over to her brother's bed, where she whispered his name and drew the distraught boys attention towards her.

Gradually his father shifted his gaze to the door, where Karen stood with a perplexed yet arduous look plastered upon her features.

Yuzu's tender voice spoke solemnly to her brother, whilst her father watched on in amazement as Ichigo's shoulders slumped, and his wild eyes seemed to soften at the assuaging sound of his sister's voice.

"Are you alright big brother-Ichi?" She questioned, with a gentle smile forming on her lips.

Leisurely the boy gave a slight nod and returned his attention back to the ruffled sheets that remained tangled around his slender foot.

"I'm alright…" Ichigo said slowly, as he released a long and onerous sigh, and finally returned his little sister's smile. "I didn't mean to wake you. Why don't you head back to bed? I'll be alright."

"Are you sure about that." Karen interrupted, as she finally stepped into the room. "You keep claiming that you are alright, and yet the same thing occurs every single night."

"Karen!" Yuzu scolded, as she turned to face her sister, whom kept her attention fixated on her brothers palled form.

Gradually their father tore his gaze from Ichigo to stare blankly down at the floor where he tried to piece the past few nights together, as he realized that Karen was correct about her brothers proceeding nightmares.

The whole situation seemed unreal, for he had so heedlessly thought that his son had been alright after defeating Aizen and losing his powers only shortly after everything had transpired. Thus, neglecting to see that his son was clearly suffering.

However, now that they were within this present situation he could no longer linger on the past, as he now needed to focus on his child whom was clearly in distress due to the past events that had evidently left scars that needed to be mended and healed.

Slowly he rested a hand on his son's shoulder, drawing his gaze back to him, where he held his father's stare for only a moment before averting his gaze so that he could stare blankly at his lap trying to hide the embarrassment from his pallid face.

"Why don't you little ladies head back to bed." He said sternly, not allowing either of them any room for debating, as he continued to keep his attention fixated on his eldest child. "I'll handle it from here."

Yuzu reluctantly removed her hand from her brother and bided him goodnight before she headed over to meet Karen whom threw an impassive look towards her father before exiting the room with Yuzu.

Once Isshin was assured that the two girls were gone, he released a long-awaited sigh, and allowed his hand to fall from Kurosaki's shoulder so that it could rest at his side.

"Do you want to tell me what's been going on?" He began, whilst watching his sons shaking fingers guide their way through his messy orange locks, as a shaky exhalation escaped past his still quivering lips.

"It's nothing, just a bad dream. That's all." Ichigo said in a tone that expressed his distaste towards the conversation. However, his father was not about to allow the discussion to end here, as he had allowed this matter to go on for too long now and he was ready to lay the situation to rest. "I just want to go back to sleep, can we talk about this in the morning?"

"So that you can avoid me again, and run for the door?" His father replied swiftly whilst meeting his sons shocked expression. "Ichigo, you need to stop avoiding the situation. Tell me what is happening so that I can help you."

Isshin's solemn eyes observed the eldest child, looking to find any sign that he was actually getting through to the young man. Thus, as always Ichigo seemed to discard his father's concerns and almost instantly turned his face from Isshin's view so that he could stare blankly at the floorboard all whilst avoiding his father pleading gaze.

"I just want to go back to sleep. We can talk about this tomorrow." Ichigo reiterated, his voice quivering slightly as he spoke.

Isshin released another long exhalation before giving a slight nod and raising himself off of his son's bed.

Swiftly Ichigo stretched his long yet slender legs back out over the bed and promptly threw the blanket over his face in order to evade any further questioning.

"We'll be discussing this in the morning, Ichigo." His father reminded him, as he headed for the door, knowing full well that this matter had ended as soon as the orange head had thrown the covers over his head.

However, once Ishan had resorted to sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee at his side he began to think back on their conversation and wondered why his son seemed to stare off into the left corner of the room whenever he would reply to his response.

Additionally, why had Ichigo quivered as he had spoken to his father? What was it that he was afraid of?

A slight sigh scampered past his lips, as he rubbed a hand over his face, where his fingers then lingered only for a moment over the stubble at his chin, as he thought about the situation, wondering if he was perhaps blowing things out of proportion, or possibly overthinking things because he was worried about Ichigo.

Nevertheless, there was truly no avoiding his suspicions, for Isshin was not incorrect to wonder why his son's attention seemed to linger at the corner of his room, for there was truly something dark lurking within the blackness that only the young man's eyes would ever see.

It was a form in which would give even his father nightmares, ones in which would haunt him for the rest of his existence, for this form was of pure evil, it was the only thing that could ever send such terror through such a man's soul.

It was no other than Aizen.

 _ **To be continued…**_


End file.
